


fool me once (fool me twice)

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (& i hc him as sex neutral), (ace demiaro raphael ftw), Asexual Character, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dios, you have some nerve showing up here kid.”</p>
<p>Simon jumps, whirling around, and clearly his reflexes haven't improved while he's been away. “I do?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	fool me once (fool me twice)

“Dios, you have some nerve showing up here kid.”

Simon jumps, whirling around, and clearly his reflexes haven't improved while he's been away. “I do?”

“Coming to my club all alone,” Raphael explains. “You still have a death wish?” 

Simon gulps, backing up towards the door. “O-oh, I didn't know. I'll just be leaving now-”

Raphael flashes around him, making Simon stop abruptly, and he shivers when Raphael begins to speak. “No. I think it's time you and I had a chat about Camille.”

“A chat?" Simon asks, his voice high. "That's really not necessary, I haven't even seen her since-”

Raphael grips his wrist loosely, bringing him to a side room. “I _insist_.” 

The room is dominated by a three sided leather couch, widowless and with dark abstract artworks on each wall. Raphael sits in one of the couch's corners, still holding his fledgling's wrist- and with a sigh, Simon sits on the adjacent side. 

Simon doesn't smell like fear anymore, is relaxed like this. It's more pleasing than it should be, and Raphael drops his wrist, folding his fingers together. 

“What made you think letting Camille loose was a good idea?” 

“I know I'm new here, but even I know Camille isn't as bad as Valentine. We needed a way to stop him-”

“And did freeing Camille give you that?” Raphael interrupts delicately. 

Simon bites his lip, “Well not exactly- Clary's mom is awake now and she can help us beat him. She's the only one that knows his weaknesses.” 

“Besides perhaps his old parabatai?” Raphael suggests, and Simon looks down. “It sounds more like you helped free Camille all to save Jocelyn Fairchild, the woman that made Valentine popular in the first place-”

“That's not fair!” Simon exclaims. 

“-and neither is you betraying me after I let you into my home,” Raphael finishes, flinty. 

“You were going to have me killed!” Simon spits out. 

Raphael's eyes flash, and he knows the anger appears briefly before he can hide it away. “You left me with no choice. Vampires have been killed for far lesser crimes than helping a high security prisoner escape.” 

Simon gulps, and his fear comes back, sticky sweet. “Are you um, are you going to kill me?” 

“That depends on you Simon.” 

“It does?” 

“On if you plan on staying loyal to Camille,” Raphael says.

Simon winces, “She said… something about a sire? I wanted to hurt her, I did- but it's like I didn't?” 

“I can fix that.” 

“How?” Simon asks.

“I'll take you, and you'll become bound to me instead,” Raphael answers.

Arousal sneaks into the air, makes Raphael want to sneeze. He doesn't- it's a curious development though, one he can definitely use to make sure Simon doesn't step out of line again. (And if he anticipates Simon's sexual interest turning romantic, well it's been many years since he was a good Catholic boy.)

“T-take me?” 

Raphael lets the question hang in the air for a moment, is sure Simon would be blushing if he were still mundane. “Bite,” he finally says. “The marks won't heal, and it'll break your bond to Camille.” 

“Okay.” 

“It'll be painful,” Raphael warns, but Simon only looks more confident at that. 

“I don't want to be bound to her. I'm ready.” 

There's a building excitement in his gut, that Simon would be _his_. He'd be easier to protect, wouldn't have a reason to betray him, and with his teeth scarred into his neck, none of the other vampires would dispute Simon's return. (He'd never admit it, but things had been... lackluster without the young fledgling.) 

Raphael cups his neck with one hand, leaning over and hesitating. “Last chance.” 

“Do it,” Simon says, “before I think too much about it. Is it going to be like turning the first time because I barely got over that, and that was _awful_ like they really should warn-” 

Simon's words turn into a scream as Raphael bites, deep and swift. 

Undead blood never tastes good, stale and thick, and Raphael takes his mouth off quickly, wiping away blood with his thumb. The bite heals instantly, but scar tissue remains that Raphael gently runs a finger over. Simon shivers, and if it weren't such an important moment, he would make a joke about Simon being quite the little masochist. 

“Welcome back.” 

.

Three weeks later Simon strides into his office, fists clenched at his sides. “ _Why_ are you still mad at me?” 

Raphael places a monthly report aside, “Excuse me?” 

“You never let me go on patrols, all of my jobs include other people. You obviously don't trust me, I don't know _why_ you even bothered to bring me back here-”

“I trust you Simon,” Raphael says softly. “I think _you_ don't trust me- which is rather amusing, given our history.” 

Simon winces, “I just want it to be behind us.” 

Raphael raises an eyebrow, “It is. You wouldn't be sleeping under my roof were it not.” 

Simon pouts, honest to god pouts, and Raphael's stomach twists. “It doesn't feel that way.” 

Raphael restrains from pinching the bridge of his nose. “What would fix that?” 

“I dunno,” Simon says, scuffing his sneaker on the floor. “It just… feels like I never got punished for siding with her.” 

Raphael blinks slowly, “Having a kill order on you for a day wasn't punishment enough?” 

Simon swallows, “Right- I um, you're right of course I don't know what I was thinking, er feeling-”

“Close the door Simon.” 

“Huh?” 

“Do you want to make it worse?” Raphael asks.

“N-no,” Simon stammers out, tripping over himself as he hastens to shut the door. The sticky sweet scent is back, mixed with arousal again, and Raphael wonders if he was like this as a mundane. (The answer comes too swiftly, Camille biting into his neck as he moans, and _fuck_ , jealousy is the last thing he should be feeling.)

“Could have fooled me,” Raphael teases. “You smell like you're going to enjoy this.”

“Oh my g- you can smell _that_?” Simon squeaks out.

Raphael frowns, “Starting tomorrow you'll be doing your training with me. You should have the gist of smelling emotions by now, it's rather useful.” 

“Uh huh,” Simon says, scratching his arm. “I'm uh sorry about the um, being turned on. I'm not like hitting on you, I heard you don't um do that, I just was thinking about- not! Not like that! Fuck, I- I'm going to shut up now.”

“Come closer Simon.” 

Simon gulps and walks up to his desk, “Why?” 

“Closer,” is Raphael's only response, and Simon inches around the desk. The fear is edging out of his scent, a curious reaction that points to an obvious hypothesis that Raphael _won't_ be testing. Not tonight at least. 

“You heard wrong,” Raphael says, hooking a finger through Simon's nearest belt loop. “I may be ace but I sometimes like playing with other people's bodies. With knowing what makes them… tick.” 

Simon's eyes are wide and dark, and his unnecessary breathing stops abruptly. 

“Is that something you'd be interested in Simon?” 

“Yes,” Simon says quickly, and Raphael hides a pleased smirk. 

“Good. Lay across my lap.” 

“W-what?” 

Raphael raises an eyebrow, “You still have a punishment to fulfill I believe. One you were rather adamant to receive.” 

“Yeah, I just…” 

“Thought you wouldn't have to do anything?” Raphael asks, and Simon nods, crossing his arms. 

“I could do that- have you bent over this desk in a blink, pants by your ankles and my hand hitting you before you've even realized where you are.” 

Simon gulps, and Raphael smiles up at him, all teeth. 

“But that's not really what you want. You _want_ to take the last step yourself, putting yourself at my mercy. You'd beg me for it if I asked you to.”

Simon doesn't say anything, places himself across Raphael's lap instead. 

“Good boy,” Raphael says, smells Simon's happy response to the praise. “If this becomes too much, tell me. To start, your pants are coming off.” 

Simon jerkily nods, and Raphael tugs the worn jeans off without care. The boxers beneath are simple blue ones, and Raphael almost asks. They don't seem like Simon's underwear of choice, but he supposes that's a question for another time. He strokes a hand over Simon's lower back and ass to get him used to the contact, feels him relax in his lap. Raphael takes that as his cue to start spanking him, a medium-light hit evoking a surprised gasp. The next one gets silence, but the one after that gets a low groan, and Simon's hips start making tiny involuntary thrusts. 

“You've been bad Simon,” Raphael says, smacking the center of his ass. Simon whimpers, needy and wanting. 

“You shouldn't have made me give the order for your death,” Raphael says without thinking, his hand coming down much harder. Simon yelps, and Raphael stops, gently rubbing through the cheap boxers. 

“How are you doing?” 

“How _you_ doin'?” Simon says, giggles spilling from his lips. 

“What.”

“Nevermind,” Simon says, “it's a show thing. We should watch it sometime. I'm fine, this is good. Um, really, really good.” 

Raphael smirks, hitting him with both hands. “Well, it's not a very good punishment if you enjoy it that much, now is it?” 

Simon only moans, and Raphael smacks him again, catching the tops of his thighs. “I asked you a question nene.” 

“Y-yes. I mean no, it's not,” Simon says, shifting in his lap, his erection brushing against Raphael's thigh. 

“Ah-ah,” Raphael says. “you don't get to come. Not tonight.” 

Simon whines, and Raphael can already picture another night with them here, or maybe in his room with more space. A dildo up his ass, every spank jostling it, and Simon rutting down against silk sheets. It's a pretty image, and he's nearly certain Simon would love it- _will_ love it. 

“How many more?” Raphael asks. “How many do you deserve?” 

Simon's hips stutter, “Ten. Please?” 

“Okay,” Raphael says, hand cracking down suddenly. “But you have to count these ones.” 

Simon groans out a, “One,” and Raphael's fingers tremble over his neck, pressing against his scar.

**Author's Note:**

> [full time trash](http://parkwest.tumblr.com/)


End file.
